The Hushing [#ONC2022]

Chapter Eight

"My loyal subjects," Lady Ingrid continued. "A few days ago, a living human entered the realm of The Hushing. Her presence was sensed throughout the land, thanks to the warmth of her soul. I staked a claim on her and declared her my special guest, granting her protection and my generosity."

Marion barely stifled a snort at Lady Ingrid's speech. The wraiths in the room murmured, wings rustling. They openly stared at Marion now, as if they knew she was on thin ice, losing more and more of the queen's favor by the second.

"I kept Marion and her living soul safe," Lady Ingrid continued. "I took her into my home. I even hosted a ball in her honor. But do you think my selfless gestures were met with gratitude?"

A hiss of dissent swept through the wraiths. Marion struggled against the wraiths' hold on her but she remained firmly kneeling on the ground, unable to gain any footing.

"No," Lady Ingrid said, answering her own question. Her voice took on a sneer as she turned her black eyes on Marion. "All she cared about was going home."

The way she said it made it sound as if Marion had committed the most heinous crime in history. Marion knew she didn't have much of a fighting chance here. But she couldn't sit there and take Lady Ingrid's accusations without at least trying to push back.

"Do I get to testify at my own trial?" she said. "Or are you just rattling off my sins before declaring me guilty?"

A hush fell over the room at Marion's words. Lady Ingrid cocked her head, and for a split second, Marion expected to have her soul ripped from her body right then and there.

"You may speak," Lady Ingrid said at last in a falsely sweet tone that sent a shiver down Marion's spine.

But now that Marion had the attention of the room, she scrambled for something to say. Protesting her innocence wouldn't get her anywhere. She was a living human in a kingdom of the dead – that alone was an unforgiveable crime. She knew she didn't have much time to say something since Lady Ingrid wouldn't let her speak for long. Whatever she chose to say, it had to hit right and it had to hit hard.

At Marion's hesitation, Lady Ingrid smiled. "Looks like you're quiet as a mouse. Why don't we summon a witness?" She lifted her chin. "Bring in Septimus."

Marion craned her neck to see the stairs as Septimus was guided in by wraiths. He kept his head held high, his back straight, and his human expression schooled into careful neutrality. He looked like a man walking to his execution. The wraiths brought him to stand beside Marion, facing Lady Ingrid on her dais.

"It's so good to have you join us, Septimus," Lady Ingrid said as if she was welcoming him to a weekend picnic. "You found Marion in the garden, didn't you?"

Septimus made no reply and stood as still as stone. Lady Ingrid continued, ignoring his silence.

"I believe you were given direct orders to shoot on sight if Marion made a run for it. Maim her, if possible. Then bring her back to Valecroft."

Lady Ingrid steepled her long, bony fingers, awaiting Septimus's reply. He didn't look at Marion, his gaze locked straight ahead.

"That is correct," he said.

"And yet, you didn't. Why is that?"

A heartbeat of silence filled the room. Septimus's gaze slid over to Marion and he dipped his head in a single nod.

No, Marion mouthed.

"I helped Marion Price escape," Septimus declared. Every word rang clear and bold in the crypt. "And I swear to help every human who crosses through the mirror. I will do whatever it takes to keep them from you until you have nothing left to eat in The Hushing except your own soul."

Lady Ingrid bowed her head. Slowly, she descended the dais and came to stand in front of Septimus. The only sound in the room was the silky swish of her skirts.

"I'm disappointed, Septimus," she said in a quiet voice. "I almost came to trust you."

"The power of The Hushing turned you into a monster a long time ago. This kingdom is full of nothing but evil spirits but you...you're the worst."

Lady Ingrid bared her teeth.

"That's not true. I am the fairest of them all."

Then her hand shot out and her fingernails split Septimus's chest open. Black shadows and gray fog burst from his rib cage and at the center of the mayhem was the jewel-bright gleam of his soul. Lady Ingrid gave a disdainful flick of her hand and the wraiths descended. Marion watched, feeling sick to her stomach, as the wraiths scrambled over each other in a screeching frenzy like piranhas as they tore into Septimus's soul. Silvery light splattered like blood, gleaming on the wraiths' fingers and faces.

When they were finished, nothing but a smudge of ashes marred the floor. Marion reached out and touched the ashes, her heart heavy for Septimus's sacrifice.

Lady Ingrid smoothed her hands down the bodice of her gown and turned to face Marion. When she reached out to cup Marin's chin in her long, cold fingers, Marion flinched.

"Now that you have destroyed my favorite guardsman," she said quietly. "I believe you have made the verdict clear. You are found guilty of crimes against the queen. Your sentence is death."

The wraiths screamed with eagerness, pressing in closer around Marion. But they didn't feast yet. Lady Ingrid had given the command.

"I like you, Marion," she said. "You're smart. You're a fighter. That's why I'm offering you one last chance."

From her black skirts, Lady Ingrid drew the obsidian dagger. Maybe it was the same one from the ball, pieced back together after Marion had shattered it against the floor. Maybe it was another one and she had an arsenal of dark weapons at her disposal. It didn't matter. Marion was faced with the same choice for a second time and she knew there wouldn't be a third.

"You can sleep for eternity," Lady Ingrid said, holding out the dagger. "Or you can become one of them."

She gestured to the wraiths milling about the crypt, the dry husking sound of their wings filling the room. No matter what Marion chose, she would be under Lady Ingrid control – whether she was feeding Lady Ingrid's orchard or adding another body to her army of wraiths.

Then a thought began to bloom in the back of Marion's mind. The black gleam of the dagger winked at her. It probably wouldn't work. It was insane. But she had to try.

Marion dragged her gaze up to Lady Ingrid's face.

"Please," she said softly. "Let me sleep."

A small smile of satisfaction and triumph touched Lady Ingrid's lips. She'd finally won and pushed Marion into doing her bidding.

The wraiths released their hold on Marion. With shaking fingers, she reached out and took the dagger from Lady Ingrid's chilled fingers. The hilt was frigid in her grip as she curled her hand around it. Did she have the courage to do what she had in mind? She had nothing left to lose now.

Then she drove the knife into Lady Ingrid's neck, burying the blade upto the hilt.